


What Should Have Been

by TheWitchMaker



Category: Halloween (2018)
Genre: 2018 canon, Choking, F/M, Fantasizing, Murder, Necrophilia, No Incest, Sexual Fantasy, Stabbing, Violent Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22158097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWitchMaker/pseuds/TheWitchMaker
Summary: Confined with nothing but his thoughts to break the monotony, Michael fantasizes about a night 40 years ago.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Laurie Strode
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	What Should Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> another tumblr request.

Sometimes it happens differently. The way it should have happened.

He stands, still as a corpse, outside the window. The venetian blinds inside it are closed, but with Laurie sitting on the couch and himself standing upright, he can peer down between the gaps to watch her. It’s late at night, but she’s still awake. Sometimes she’s knitting, sometimes she’s watching a scary movie— it’s halloween, after all.

This is a rare occasion. This time, Laurie’s blouse is open, her breasts spilling out, one cupped in her left hand. Her right hand is down between her bare legs, moving rhythmically under the cover of her white cotton panties. Like a movie, Michael can see all of this. As if he’s right there in front of her, rather than standing outside.

Rather than standing chained to a concrete block, under the spell of his own fantasy.

In his daydream, something startles Laurie. She stops and looks around, but Michael’s already gone. Around the back of the house. From a new vantage point, he catches a glimpse of her hurrying upstairs to the master bedroom. The back door is unlocked and silent on its hinges. He doesn’t follow Laurie right away. He waits at the bottom of the stairs, staring up and listening hard for her soft, shy little moans to signal him to move.

It doesn’t take long. A faint whimper adds fuel to the embers that have been smoldering in the pit of his stomach since he set eyes on her. Blonde hair. Long legs. Shapely thighs and ass, hidden under a long skirt or hugged by form-fitting denim. She’s so much like Judith in so many ways, it makes Michael feel like a child again; jittery and confused by the urge to touch himself when he watches her change through the keyhole, but readily obeying it nonetheless.

In his fantasy, Laurie doesn’t hear him come up the stairs or see him stand in the doorway. He keeps his breathing under control even though his palms are sweating and his fingers twitch restlessly at his sides. Laurie’s eyes are closed. Her head is turned to the side. She lies on her back with her legs spread wide and knees bent. She’s removed and discarded her panties somewhere, leaving nothing to obstruct Michael’s view of her slender fingers plunging into her tight, pink pussy.

And the similarities to Judith cease. Judith betrayed him. Judith gave her virginity to her boyfriend. Her life was the only thing left for him to claim for himself.

In his fantasy, Laurie is his to deflower.

Her crystal blue eyes snap open as Michael grabs her wrist and pulls her to the edge of the mattress, against himself. She screams, tries to twist out of his grasp, accomplishes nothing more than rubbing herself against his throbbing erection and spurring him on more.

“Please, STOP! SOMEBODY HELP ME—“

Michael leans forward and wraps both hands firmly around Laurie’s neck. His thumbs press down, pinching her windpipe shut. She goes silent immediately, save for a weak whisper of air passing through. Not nearly enough to sustain her, though. Her panic and desperate struggling only use up more precious oxygen, and soon she falls unconscious.

She’s much easier to handle this way. She can’t kick or fight as he cuts off her blouse and gropes at her bare chest with dirty hands. She doesn’t stir when he pinches and pulls at her nipples, even when they turn red and hard from his rough stimulation. Even when he gets bored of that and sinks his fingers into her cunt deep enough to feel for himself that her virginity is still unclaimed, she can only respond with an unconscious clenching of her pelvic muscles.

She’s warm inside. Soft and wet and warm like nothing else. Nothing still alive, at least. It’s mesmerizing. Michael only manages to tear himself away when his cock throbs impatiently.

He likes to think that she’d stay unresponsive even as he buries himself in her perfect pussy. Even when he meets resistance, pulls out, and brutally thrusts past it. His subsequent thrusts become much easier with the addition of blood leaking out around his member.

When Laurie finally regains consciousness, he’s already close to coming. He holds her hips in a bruising grip and pulls them back with each snap of his hips. She starts screaming again. Michael’s cock is far too much for her little virgin hole to take— she can feel the raw, ragged edges of torn skin around her rim pulling and rubbing against it every time he moves.

The pain and dizziness from losing blood weaken Laurie’s attempts to fight him off. All she can do is beg for her life as her attacker picks up his weapon once more in anticipation of his climax. Even her desperate pleas soon fall silent, though. The knife plunges deep into her chest, between her ribs. Blood fills her punctured lung and she coughs it up. He strikes again, nicking her clavicle. The final blow goes straight to her heart. Laurie’s eyes go wide and stay that way, staring blindly up at Michael as he presses flush against her and comes as deep in her bloodied cunt as possible. By then, her body is already limp.

No matter the details of the fantasy, the end is always the same. It’s too perfect to change, after all. It’s what keeps Michael ‘sane’ and alert, looking for any opportunity to escape and finish what he started.


End file.
